


Kinda Depressing No Lie

by Anonymous



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Depression, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Multi, One Shot, Self-Indulgent, Social Anxiety, Suicidal Thoughts, completely fictional - Freeform, no beta we die like landos pr team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:53:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29511378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: TW: Read the tags---“Well, there were lots of, what do you say? Open secrets in the younger series’,”“Some can be sensitive though,”“You don’t even like him! He’s my friend, I know this shit’s sensitive. But everyone already knows about it,”---Disclaimer: These are fictional versions of real life people, and this is FICTION
Relationships: Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen, Lando Norris & Carlos Sainz Jr, Lewis Hamilton/Sebastian Vettel (mentioned)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 36
Collections: Anonymous





	Kinda Depressing No Lie

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually a writing exercise for me because I don't usually write/mention serious themes in my work so if anything's too unrealistic/inaccurate, please do mention it in the comments!

Carlos didn’t know what it was at first. Lando was just sitting there, a lighter in his hand. The flame was so small, and he’d held it up right to eye level. Then he’d tilted his head. A glazed sheen covering those blue irises. Fingers twitched, there was a bruise on his left hand, from training the day before. It was still blue, almost matching the fire. Something had felt  _ wrong _ . 

So Carlos, possessed by some sudden sense of urgency, had clapped Lando gently on the back. The younger was shook out of his stupor, his alarmed gaze swiveling to meet Carlos. He looked like he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. “What’re you doing with fire?” and then because it was too forward, Carlos added. “Don’t you need supervision to be playing with a lighter, cabrón?” But instead of a shove and a retort, Lando stiffened only for a second, before letting out a halting, pointy, staccato laugh. He snapped the lighter shut, swallowed, and looked right at the wall behind Carlos. 

“Ron asked me to hold on to it for him, couldn’t carry metal or something,” explained Lando, referring to one of their mechanics. Still, there was something almost guilty in the way his head pointed anywhere but where Carlos stood, and the way his shoulders hunched. 

Something was wrong. 

But before he could say anything else, someone was dragging him away by the shoulders, a shout about a photo appointment in his ear. “You okay?” he managed to mouth. Lando gave him a smile, it was shaky, but it was genuine, it was glad.

\---

“You’re still breathing, and I’m grateful for it,”

“Well, you shouldn’t be!” shouted George. He gritted his teeth, growled almost, his blonde hair was frazzled. His hands still clenched the Mercedes suit. “If I had the courage, I wouldn’t be here right now!”

Lando was staring. When he spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper, barely could be heard over George’s frustration. “Living’s harder than people think, and you’ve done a good job at it,” he blinked, were his eyes shining? George turned away, it was the light. And now the light was in his eyes. And water too sloshed down his cheeks. “You’re  _ living _ , George, you’re  _ breathing _ ,”

George let out a scream, his sight was blurry now. He glared at the wall, at the twists in them from the tears. “Stop getting sentimental on this, it’s logic, not emotions,”

The younger man fell silent, something had changed in the air. George was too scared to turn around, to see what impact his words had made. What was impending felt even worse than his angriness at himself, so he did something stupid. He forced his mind to go back to those very same thoughts which had led him to snap at everything, to lash out. And then he slapped the blurry wall. 

\---

Seb whistled, low and quiet, more an acknowledgement than anything. “What kind of workouts does your trainer have you doing?”

Lando raised his eyebrows, he looked exactly like a confused puppy. Biting his lower lip and large, doe eyes. Vettel felt a tug inside him, one that often seemed to arrive around the younger players. He supposed he was getting old, and he wasn’t entirely adverse to the idea. He pointed at the few scars lining Lando’s arm. The younger glanced at it, before realisation crossed over. 

“Oh,” he said.

“Oh?” Seb couldn’t help but smile at the other’s confusion. 

“I’m clumsy, you know!” Lando blurted, he grinned with too much teeth, and he was all hunched and curled up on himself. Seb’s smile dropped. It felt familiar, the way Lando rambled on too loudly to be comfortable, too many pauses to be natural. His heart squeezed. 

\---

“Well, there were lots of, what do you say? Open secrets in the younger series’,” Dan Ticktum shrugged. 

“Some can be sensitive though,” Nyck de Vries interrupted pointedly.

“You don’t even like Lando,” Dan narrowed his eyes. “He’s my friend, I know this shit’s sensitive. But everyone already knows about it,”

“About what?” demanded Max. Daniel (Ricciardo) leaned next to him, but the other two didn’t know. Not like you could see people through a gaming setup for audio only, he'd been very particular in making sure the camera would never turn on in their presence. Lando too was supposed to be here, but he was running late, stuck in some PR shoot. Daniel was quiet, as always, Ticktum was gossipy. Even though Daniel and Max were also somewhat of an open secret, it was still restricted enough to be safe. 

“Okay, so, I don’t know how long it’s been going on because I only found out in F2 but I’d always suspected from before, you know? Some moments, I guess,” Ticktum spoke so brashly, no hint of self awareness. 

“You’re disgusting,” Nyck said.

“But what is it?” Max questioned again.

“The F2 medical documents got leaked, Lando was diagnosed with depression and I think he was also taking some medicine? Antidepressants, obviously, but for some reason he also had ritalin or some shit-”

Daniel choked. Max froze. Out of all, this was not what he’d expected to hear. 

“And okay, this one isn’t confirmed but I heard back in F3, they found him loc-”

“Shut the hell up, Ticktum,” interrupted Nyck. Max couldn’t move, he could barely breathe. It was like as soon as the first sentence had finished, something had grabbed his heart and stopped it from pulsating. Daniel’s eyes were wide, he was no longer leaning back, unlike Max, he’d jumped off the seat. Walking far away so the other two couldn’t hear him as he coughed, and coughed. 

“What? He asked!”

“I’m good,” Max’s voice cracked as he said it, softer than it had ever been before. Daniel couldn’t even hear him as he came closer, swallowing thickly every few seconds. “Thanks,” but he didn’t, couldn’t mean it. 

Then there was silence till Lando came online, immediately ranting about his trainor upping his calorie intake. Max could barely make himself respond, the other sounded so cheerful. He was smiling. Despite his complaining, it was obvious the warmth he felt for those he talked about. Ticktum carried on as normal, all boisterous and casual. Nyck jumped in with a few snide comments, but stayed quiet otherwise. Max logged off early. 

\---

It felt so wrong to tell, to speak, to even think of it in someone else’s presence. And Daniel knew Max felt the same way. A boundary had been crossed, one Lando didn’t even know of. At first, Dan had struggled to act normally. But before he knew it, his mind was already rejecting the idea. Pushing it away, trying to forget it. He should reach out. He should tell Lando he knows. But how can he?

He shakes his head, and turns up a smile for the Netflix camera suddenly in his face. 

\---

“I would really prefer if we didn’t spend all our time talking about Verstappen,” Charles groaned, he’d long given up acting civilly towards the other after he’d gotten comfortable with Lando. 

“Look I know, but I’m worried!” the younger whined, stretching out the last word petulantly. “Why does he want to talk to me ‘privately and in confidence’? That’s so weird! People usually say ‘private’ or ‘in confidence’, not both. Oh my god. Is he going to tell me Daniel hates me? Or he himself does? Jesus christ, this is not good for my health,”

“Calm down, mon petit. If it’s ‘in confidence’ then it’s probably something about him not you. So my interest has officially left the chat,”

“Hah! I’m influencing your vocabulary,” he pointed out joyfully. “You’re right, I shouldn’t stress over this. I’m happy right now,”

“So you weren’t happy before?”

“No.”

Charles’ teasing smile dissipated, though Lando couldn’t see it through the phone screen. 

“I mean,” started Lando. “No one was really that happy before ‘cause there was so much pressure during rookie years and all, you know? You know,”

And that was that. 

\---

Pierre narrowed his eyes. He and Max weren’t particularly close, but the other’s current status intrigued him. Max was  _ fidgety _ . It was subtle. But it was there. In the way his leg kept kicking an invisible football, and the several times he’d licked his lips. It was there. “You good?”

Max’s neck jerked towards him, before the rest of his body relaxed. “Yes.” he said. “Just waiting for Lando,” Then, in response to Pierre’s raised eyebrow. “I got something I need to tell him, privately, just a bit nervous,” And that was new too. Max had never opened up to Pierre, even when they were teammates. Maybe this wasn’t exactly ‘opening up’ for some people, but in Verstappen terms, this was ‘baring his soul’. 

“I’ll stay here for a while then, keep you company, yeah?” the Frenchman said gently. 

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep it in once Lando is even in my sight,” Max whispered, but he didn’t protest, or even look uncomfortable when Pierre didn’t move from his spot. So they waited, Pierre offering words of comfort? He wasn’t exactly sure what he was saying, just anything to calm the jitters on the other man. 

“Hey!” Lando was waving, nervously smiling. One step in the room, and he too got inflicted by Max’s panic, the cheery expression faltering. “Sounded serious, whatever you wanted to sa- Oh, hey Pierre!” Another small wave. Pierre gave an obligatory smile. 

“You guys should talk in private, I’ll just be goi-”

“I know!” Max blurted. “That annoying guy- Ticktum, he talked about your F2 days and how medical records got leaked and shit and how you got diagnosed with depression and had to take medicine and-” he heaved. “Daniel was there too, because he always is. And I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that guy in the first place but I didn’t know and I thought it’d be some harmless gossip and. Health issues suck, I know what it feels like to have my privacy infiltrated and I just hate what happened!”

\---

Lando ran. It’s what he’s always done. He started, and never stopped. But he tried this time. He really did. The only words, though, which managed to escape the paragraph from his brain was “oh, okay, thanks for telling me, uh, I’ll be going now,”. A mess so jumbled that Max probably didn’t even understand it. He didn’t even immediately run, he walked, calmly, and now he was thinking that Pierre and Max were probably too shocked to stop him. Or they didn’t know what to do. Or they just didn’t care aside from personal guilt. Or that he was just too goddamn confusing that even the kindest people couldn’t manage to help him. 

Those thoughts didn’t make the situation any better. So he ran from them. Pumping his legs, rushing into his trailer, but then gently closing the door. He made sure it was locked. But he’d have to tell Jon about this sooner or later anyway, and no doubt someone from the crew had noticed his movement and alerted the trainer already. Or they stood right outside right now, debating whether to knock and check up on him. 

Sure enough, Will’s familiar voice drifted in. “Lando?”

“I’m good!” Lando piped back perkily. He didn’t feel sad. Or maybe he did and his body was just rejecting it from the surprise he’d felt. 

“Right,” replied Will, skeptically. 

“Really! I’ll be out in a couple minutes and you can see for yourself,” he answered. Will left him alone after that. Lando was breathing. It was unclear why he was so suddenly aware of it, because he was always breathing. Even the few minutes of life he didn’t want to. His chest constricted, then relaxed, then squeezed his heart, then slackened, and so on. Like it too was trying to run, except it had no fuel to propel it.

\---

“I don’t know how to deal with this situation,” Daniel’s head knocked against the headrest of the bed. Max wouldn’t sit down, caught in a frenzy even an hour after talking to Lando. 

“I said it in front of Pierre, damn it,” growled the younger. 

“Who’s a nice guy,” reminded Dan. “And he’ll probably talk to Lando later as well, because he’s like that,”

“They barely talk to each other and I don’t think Pierre’s even said anything good about Lando and-” Max sagged in relief when Dan’s arms wrapped tightly around him. Without another word, Daniel walked to the bed, dragging Max along. The two thumped on top of it. 

“I’ve never seen you so worked up about anything,” commented Daniel softly. 

“It’s  _ Lando _ , he’s like a younger brother to me,”

\---

The bruises weren’t on purpose. He really was clumsy. It was like when you walked into your room and you hit your shoulder on the door. Normally, you’d change your path so your shoulder didn’t get injured. Just, he didn’t do that part. He  _ let _ his shoulder get hit, but it’s not like  _ he _ hit his shoulder. 

If he told others, they’d be concerned. But it was nothing. It was truly nothing. 

\---

“Hey,”

“Hi Lando,” Pierre gave a sad smile. He glanced around before taking a seat on the gravel next to Lando, leaning his back against the cement wall. Truth be told, he didn’t want to be there. He didn’t want to know any of that. He wanted to go back to three days ago where he could call Lando ‘petulant’ without feeling bad about it. Nothing had changed, but at the same time, everything had changed. And it was a cliché statement, but things only became clichés because they were so common.

“We can just forget about it,” said Lando. “It was back in F2, like three years ago,”

Pierre wanted to ask. ‘So you recovered? So you don’t have it anymore? Can I treat you normally?’ But it didn’t take a genius to know how wrong it would be to ask, maybe not wrong, he didn’t know, but it would be uncomfortable. Already there was that tense air between them. 

“I just,” Lando looked down at where his fingers fidgeted together, intertwining before traipsing away. When he spoke again, his voice was hoarse, like it was going to crack but it never did. “Please don’t tell anyone about it,”

“ _ Never _ ,”

“It’s not like its something to be ashamed of or whatever but… I’m not ready,” he choked. Pierre’s heart twitched right along with his hands, his first move of comfort was always physical, but would it fit here? Would it fit with Lando? He bit the inside of his cheek, compromising with himself and resting a palm on Lando’s shoulders 

“You don’t need to tell everyone to prove anything,” in the distance, laughter and frustrated yells sounded as a camera group walked like a herd across the track. 

“Hmm,”

“I mean it,” and Pierre did, which he felt surprised him more than it did Lando. 

\---

There was something eerie about seeing Lando up there. He was on top of the roof, looking out at the track, leaning forward. Except to Seb, the younger’s wistful gaze was somewhere far beyond the cleaning on the track. Or far closer. No one was next to him, which was odd, especially considering that only ten feet away were bustling staff setting up for the quali races. But then Seb took a step forward in his direction, and it was almost as if some force was repelling him. A protective aura surrounded Lando, a force field of emotion, he  _ looked _ so alone up there that Seb’s body took it as an immovable fact. 

“You’re looking pensive,” Lewis noted, gently bumping his shoulder against Seb, so softly that if Seb didn’t know better, he would think it was on accident. “Anything in particular?”

Seb opened his mouth, still looking at Norris. The other’s fingertips were slithering across the railing, tapping, running, and one of his shoulders was leaning across the edge. “Nothing?” he said unsuredly. The sleeve on the arm which was propped over had fallen down slightly, revealing one of those training bruises. It was still blue and grey, recent. Lewis followed his eyesight, one eyebrow twitching but not rising up. 

“Any reason we’re staring at Norris?” questioned Lewis, ignoring the temporary smile that appeared on Seb’s face at the ‘we’re’. He supposed he should be used to it by now, they had been a ‘we’ for quite long. 

“I’m not really sure,” Seb replied truthfully. It wasn’t until someone came and dragged Lando away that some sort of relief permeated the tense air. “That was weird,”

Lewis patted him on the back. 

\---

“You’re not okay,” Carlos grabbed Lando’s arm, brown eyes reflecting the warmth of his words. Lando bit his lip. They were frozen in time almost for a few seconds, Carlos refused to back down, something was wrong with his friend. He’d known it since yesterday, thought maybe it was just a mood swing and he’d be back to normal. 

“It’s complicated?” Lando offered, his voice perking up so high that Carlos’ instinct was to tease him before he remembered the current context. 

The Spaniard shook his head and crossed his arms, then wished he hadn’t because suddenly it felt like a gap had opened between the two. A full cavern and if he took one step, he’d fall right down into its depths, crumbling and leaving Lando behind. He gulped. “I’m just worried,” was all he could say. Because the space between was so big that each soft word felt like shouting and there’s only so loud he could yell. 

Then Lando was jumping, no,  _ flying _ across the chasm. He took a deep breath, put his shoulders back and tilted up his chin. “I need to tell you stuff, but it’s heavy, and it’s kind of long,”

Carlos met him in the middle, but closer to his side, because that leap was Lando’s, he only bridged the gap. “Let’s do it,”

\---

“I’m not glass or anything,” Lando snapped, heat simmering in his chest before rising to his cheeks. He flushed. “Sorry, I don’t… Just I’ve been like this since we’ve met, nothing’s changed here except  _ you _ .”

Daniel stumbled back a bit, like it was a physical hit right at his chest. 

\---

It was inevitable that others would notice how Max became more critical of pushy interviewers, how Daniel’s smile froze on his face at self-deprecating jokes, how Pierre kept whispering in Lando’s ear, how Carlos became a silent bodyguard. It wasn’t their fault, Lando knew that, they didn’t know this willingly, and they didn’t know how to deal with it. They were all trying, and that was what mattered. Even if he tried to feel angry at them for this predicament, he only felt gratitude. Because they took in his words, they tried to understand, and they were, just a bit slowly. 

But then Charles had noticed, then George, and if he knew, of course so did Alex. Lando loved them, really, and he wanted to tell them. Maybe not so soon. Maybe not right at that moment. 

Then they’d feel sad, and he couldn’t stand that. But he was a coward too at the moment. So he found a compromise. He wouldn’t have to face them and be hit with full force anxiety in that mixture of his own secret coupled with the anguish in their eyes. He made a group chat, he sent a speech. Waited a few hours for all their reactions, answered their questions, and that was that. 

It didn’t fix everything, but in the end, they were happier than they would’ve been otherwise. 

\---

Lando wasn’t ‘cured’. He didn’t know if he ever would be. But that was a problem for future him to worry about, and maybe past him too. Presently, he had several pairs of hands, eyes, and legs keeping him afloat. Presently, he was happy. And he liked it. 


End file.
